


Feline CATastrophe

by elle_nic



Category: Crazy Rich Asians (2018)
Genre: Angst, But only a tiny bit, Crack, F/F, Fluff, fiction&femslashevent, its a little cracky, really the smallest bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 11:30:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19789981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elle_nic/pseuds/elle_nic
Summary: Rachel may have been a bit manipulative, but Eleanor would come around... Right?





	Feline CATastrophe

**Author's Note:**

> The discord wanted fluff and I have no life so here we are. Also the title is my own material and yes I'm here all week.

“Rachel Jing’en Young,” came the most thundering register Rachel thought her wife could manage, “What on God’s gracious earth is _that_?”

“Babe,” Rachel laughed, “You’ve never seen a cat before?” Her light-hearted tone did not seem to relax her wife in the slightest. In fact, Rachel swore she sore shoulders tense even further, eyes narrow to near slits and lips pursed into plump dissatisfaction (which was really hot, but Rachel decided to hold her tongue).

“Get it out,” came the flat reply, doused in a chilliness rarely ever aimed at her since their mah-jong game a few years before. Rachel looked down to the cat, grey fur glossy and short and green eyes startlingly vibrant. She was purring in her lap, kneading her thighs and not paying an ounce of attention to Eleanor, who was stood stock still at the doorway to their living room, eyeing both cat and wife with comical disdain.

“But she’s so cute!”

“Rachel, you cannot even consider for a moment that I would be alright with having this beast in our home,” Eleanor said primly. Rachel was silenced by an elegant hand when she opened her mouth to argue. “And more than that, you cannot begin to consider that not speaking to me about this before getting… _it_ would be acceptable conduct within our marriage.”

“I _did_ ask you!”

“You most certainly did not,” Eleanor retorted, “And if you did, I certainly didn’t agree.”

“On Monday, I told you my colleague’s cat had some foster cats she needed to get adopted, and you said yes when I asked you,” Rachel defended, stroking the creature in question. Eleanor deflated slightly and tilted her head just so. It was the gesture she made when she was thinking hard about something, but Rachel had never thought of it as adorable, because it was such a calculated movement, one she’d executed before taking down her enemies (which _was_ a little sexy, but Rachel had been her enemy at one point and found it more unsettling than arousing). Rachel could tell that Eleanor had recalled the exchange, because her eyes widened, her cheeks reddened, and she spluttered about how manipulative Rachel had been to ask her _then_ of _all times_.

“It was as good a time as any,” Rachel said weakly, rubbing the cat’s forehead to soothe the squirming Russian blue in her lap.

“Good a time as- Rachel, we had just- _You_ had just-…”

She really _had just_ , too. Eleanor was not particularly open when it came to sex, being a product of both her generation and of her culture and upbringing. Rachel had never found it to be frustrating the way Eleanor insisted it must have been. As a result of those things, Rachel is not often allowed the pleasure of tasting her wife and bringing her to orgasm with her mouth, which always makes Eleanor see stars. And maybe Rachel had waited until such a moment to ask for the cat, and maybe, in her orgasm induced haze, Eleanor had agreed sleepily then made ‘gesture hands’ for Rachel to lay down with her (grabby hands which were adorable).

“You waited until you had just… just used your mouth on me, _knowing_ that I wouldn’t be able to agree to anything after and then you ask me for a cat anyway? Rachel,” Eleanor said disappointedly.

“No, it wasn’t like that, I promise! I just… You go away to Singapore for business, and I…”

Eleanor sighed silently and walked across the room, eyeing the cat wearily and sitting beside Rachel, placing her hand under the lowered chin of her younger wife and pulling her eyes to her. “Rachel,” she said tenderly.

“I’ll take care of her and clean up after her, obviously… And we can afford a cat,” Rachel said desperately. Eleanor tried to think of a way to gently let her wife down, firm in her belief that an animal in their home was a bad idea (animals never really liked Eleanor, especially cats). But one look at her wife, who loved Eleanor’s company and who loved to spend her time with someone, and Eleanor caved (inwardly, mind). She looked down to the cat and acknowledged that it seemed sweet with her wife, and it was a short-haired breed, too.

“I dislike how you went about it, Rachel Young,” Eleanor intoned imperiously, then added, softer, “but I hate to leave you here alone, my love.”

“I can keep her?”

Eleanor had taken her time with admitting that she loved Rachel because, well, that was a lot to admit to. But one thing that she adored privately from the moment she met her younger wife, was her hopefulness and her shining faith, supported deliciously by her backbone when challenged. The way her wife seemed to place so much faith in her, so much stock in what she said and did, made Eleanor feel important in a way she had never felt before. And maybe it was a little pathetic of her, but she’d do anything to keep that starry-eyed look in her wife’s gaze.

“If she’s breaks anything irreplaceable, she goes,” She said in lieu of an answer. “And,” she said, interrupting Rachel’s inevitable squeal, “If I smell cat urine at any point in our house, you are _both_ up for adoption.”

“I love you!” Rachel squealed, disturbing the cat into crawling over onto Eleanor’s lap, freezing the woman into an almost comical caricature of her usually composed self. “She likes you,” Rachel whispered as the cat began kneading again softly, purring audibly.

“She does?”

“Mhmm. Martha said she was the most sociable of the cats she had. She said she’ll just about talk back,” Rachel added, chuckling delightedly when a pleasant chirp met her.

“I suppose she is charming. She mustn’t make a habit of crinkling my clothes, though,” Eleanor said.

“You let me crinkle your clothes,” Rachel said suggestively, with mischief in her eyes.

“Only because you do not let me pick them up when you are so careless as to take them off me and fling them about.”

“Touché, I suppose.”

The cat meowed at Eleanor before laying on her lap and flicking her tail gently near the older woman’s hand. Eleanor took the hint and stroked the creature, very soft, she acknowledged, until the green eyes closed in bliss.

“And what is our newest housemate’s name?” Eleanor _did not_ miss Rachel’s wince.

“She, uh… Her name is Ellie,” she said in a rush.

“What,” Eleanor hissed.

“She was already called that, I promise!”

Eleanor huffed and looked away from Rachel’s scrunched face down to the grey cat – Ellie – and stroked her finger along her bowed head.

“Well, as far as names go, Ellie, it’s a rather nice one.”

“I think so, too.”

“You’re not going to trick me into adopting a child next, are you?”

“What,” Rachel laughed, “No, honey.” And then, “Unless you want a child?”

“Maybe I’ll wait until you’re writhing beneath me to ask,” Eleanor deadpanned.

“Hey! That’s not how it happened!”

Eleanor looked to Rachel and laughed softly, looking tenderly into eyes that mirrored her love.

“You’re a menace, Rachel Young.”

“Your menace, Eleanor Young.”

“Yes,” she breathed.

Eleanor would keep her secret to her death… But privately, she really had always wanted a cat.


End file.
